A Silhouette and Maybe More

The Chat

My hands visibly shook while I sat in the corner of the kitchen, breathless. My mind was blank, there was too much to think about about that I couldn't specifically pin a point to start at. Dan wrote this...for me. Why did this have to happen now? Right after the day I heard about his death.

I let go of the letter as it floated to the ground like a feather flying through the air, my blank stares kept me occupied while I took in this difficult information. 'We will be together again' it said, but he failed to mention anything about what happens if things go wrong, which it certainly has. I finally let myself go, tears came streaming down my face and I didn't have the energy to wipe them away: there was no point, I would keep on crying anyway. I needed someone with me, Abigail, Elise, my parents, anyone. I couldn't cope on my own.

"I love you too Dan." I sobbed, barely making the words audible. I was completely crippled by the overwhelming emotions and had lost control. Even though it was dated last year, I still felt like this was only written recently, like he knew he was going to die. No. I shook the thought out of my head, nobody knows when they're going to die unless they wanted to...did he want to die? Could he have maybe deliberately crashed the car? But...why?

I sat there deep in thought, motionless, until Abigail came back, panting and out of breath. She called my name but I didn't reply, I let her find me herself. I didn't have the determination to speak. Her head eventually popped round the corner and she spotted me there but somehow missed the letter on the floor.

"Amelia, what's wrong?"

Yet again I was speechless, I only pointed to the letter that I couldn't bare to read again. As she read on her eyes got wider and wider.

"Oh my god."

She looked at me and back to the letter again, squinting her eyes re-reading everything just to process what it actually said.

"I-I don't under...stand." I mumbled, trembling with the uncontrollable power that emotions had over me. Abigail's attempts of enlightening my mood failed miserably. I hid my face within my hands to cover up how much I was cringing at her pathetic excuses of how everything will be alright. Although I did have to congratulate her on how she approached it but no matter how hard she tried I knew - and I will always know - that nothing will ever be the same.

After clearly seeing that my mood wasn't progressing Abigail decided to call Elise hoping that somehow she would help me get over this obstacle. Once she arrived she sat with me and we talked, not about Dan, not anything that would have the slightest relation to him, but about the things that Elise and I had experienced as friends; the time where we stupidly got drunk at a party and trashed the place, the time where got soaked to the bone in the rain after missing our bus to work, all these things that were brought back into my mind, replacing Dan, and putting a smile on my face for the first time in a while.

"See? You don't need Dan to be happy."

I sighed deeply and admitted that what she had said was true. As long as I stayed focussed I could maybe get on with my life. She took the letter that I held tight in my grasp hesitant to let go and placed it back in it's envelope and folded it.

"Hang on, I've seen this handwriting before." She stated, knitting her eyebrows together. I looked at her with such hope that I could maybe meet this person that Dan had obviously placed his trust into, completely forgetting every piece of advice that Elise had just suggested about forgetting him.

"Whose is it?" I desperately asked wishing that there would be a sign of certainty from Elise.

"I...I know it. He was at the funeral, he was one of Dan's closest friends, I can't place a name."

"Think! Think harder!" I begged again and again hoping it would boost her memory.

"Kyle! That was it, it was Kyle."

That name. Kyle. It had popped up somewhere recently but I can't remember where. It was bothering me so much that I paced around my flat for almost half an hour thinking and rewinding to myself to when I saw it.

Then, I clicked.

I sprinted for my laptop and typed in that word that still remains haunting to me: Bastille. Once again those names popped up but I was only searching for one: Kyle Simmons.

"Elise? Is this him?" I shouted to the kitchen where Elise had helped herself to the fridge. She perched herself up onto the back of the sofa and peered at my screen.

"Yes that's him! He was the one at the funeral."

"Okay, do you know where he lives?"

Elise looked at me worryingly knowing exactly why I was asking. I was worried she wouldn't tell me and once again give me that excuse that my parents always used; it's for your own good.

"I'll look for you, but it'll take a while, I'll need to ask a couple of people."

"Thank you so much Elise."